


now my bedsheets smell like you

by piginawig



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Maggie Tozier, Minor Sonia Kaspbrak, Minor Wentworth Tozier, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 07:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13095000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piginawig/pseuds/piginawig
Summary: Richie and Eddie can't sleep without each other.





	now my bedsheets smell like you

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble for an anon prompt on tumblr, "is that my shirt?" but it quickly got away from me.
> 
> Title from "Shape of You" by Ed Sheeran.
> 
> Not beta'd, so let me know if you catch any mistakes! Enjoy!

Richie’s parents sucked. And that was putting it lightly. His mom was a functioning alcoholic who could go through an entire bag of cheap boxed wine in a night, and still be up early enough to scream at Richie for hogging the coffee maker. She didn’t mince words with her only son, informing him as a pre-teen that she wished she’d had a daughter instead. Richie couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken to him in a tone that wasn’t annoyed with his existence. His father was a dentist, working late hours every night and blatantly ignoring Richie when he was home.

On top of the way they treated Richie, the way they treated each other was just as bad. Richie knew for a fact his parents didn’t sleep in the same bed; his father took residence in the guest bedroom most nights. He assumed his father was having an affair, which would explain his late hours and the fact that he seemed content to never interact with his own wife. When they did interact, they spit vicious words at each other, paying no mind if Richie was around to hear them or not.

At this point, Richie was more or less used to it. With only one year left until he graduated high school, he figured he could manage. He spent many nights sneaking out his first story window, grabbing his bike and pedaling to Eddie’s house two streets over. Eddie’s bedroom was on the first story as well, his window located on the side of the house in the backyard. Eddie left the gate unlocked for Richie, and always answered when he heard three soft taps on his window. Richie would climb in, thank Eddie with a smile, and climb into Eddie’s twin-sized bed so they could squeeze together for the night. Eddie was an early riser, and he would wake Richie so he could sneak back to his own bedroom before his parents ever woke up.

It was a nice system, until Sonia Kaspbrak caught him.

Eddie had overslept. Richie had been more upset than usual the night before; his father had deigned to notice his existence, only to tell him how fucking annoying he was, and ask when the fuck he was going to be out of their hair. Eddie had held Richie while he cried, murmuring soft words to his best friend while running a finger through his curly hair. After a while, Richie had opened up. Once he started talking about how awful his parents were, it was hard to stop, and Eddie wanted to hear every word. He pressed soft kisses to the tear tracks on Richie’s cheeks and ignored the way they turned beet red. It was a few hours before they fell asleep, only three hours before their usual wake-up call.

When Eddie did wake up, it was in a panic that they had overslept by an hour. That meant Eddie’s mom would already be awake, and that Richie’s dad would have already left for work. His mom would be sipping coffee in the kitchen. Richie had scrambled out of Eddie’s house, desperately grabbing his jeans and shoes from the floor and hopping out the window, yanking them up his long legs as he headed toward the gate. He felt something in one of the legs of his jeans and kicked, the red t-shirt Eddie had worn the day before falling out. He slipped his shoes on before picking Eddie’s shirt up and stuffing it in his back pocket.

He opened the gate, closing it behind him, and headed toward his bike, which was sitting against the side of the house. He had made it halfway down the driveway when Mrs. Kaspbrak opened the front door and stepped outside to grab the paper.

Richie’s eyes widened comically behind his glasses and he quickly straddled the bike, trying to pedal away, but her shriek stopped him.

Richie made it home in one piece, sneaking in his own window without fanfare; his parents hadn’t noticed he was gone. It hurt, but he wasn’t surprised. He slipped Eddie’s shirt out of his pocket and tossed it on the bed before leaving his room to get ready for school.

*

“How bad was it?” Richie asked Eddie, already wincing. The two were standing at the bike racks in front of the school, and Richie toyed with his backpack strap nervously. Eddie had dark circles under his eyes and Richie felt a pang of guilt, knowing he’d kept his best friend up most of the night.

Eddie frowned, not meeting Richie’s eyes. “I have to keep my door open at night now.”

Richie’s stomach hurt. No more sneaking to Eddie’s house for comfort.

“Fuck, Eds, I’m so sorry.”

Eddie shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Rich. I overslept.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Richie said. “I’m the one that kept you up half the night. I just need to learn to deal with my shit on my own.”

“You shouldn’t have to!” Eddie exploded angrily. “They shouldn’t put you through that anyway. You shouldn’t have anything to deal with, and you shouldn’t have to deal with it alone! My mom just fucking sucks.”

Richie fought the urge to respond _yeah, she sucks my dick_ , and instead pulled Eddie in for a hug. His shorter friend fell against him, anger dying. When they pulled apart, Eddie’s cheeks were red but his face wasn’t as pinched.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m just tired.”

“That’s alright, Eds,” Richie promised, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and walking them toward the entrance of the school.

That night, Richie laid in bed and tossed and turned. It was always the nights without Eddie that showed him how much he needed his best friend to sleep restfully. He tried to ignore what that meant, but as he tried to fall asleep he couldn’t help but think about it. About the way his heart sped up when Eddie said something particularly sweet to him, and the way he got butterflies when Eddie laughed at his jokes. He thought about the fact that Eddie was, put simply, his favorite person. If there was anyone he wanted by his side for anything, it was his best friend.

And he wouldn’t think twice about that except that he’d never felt like that about the other Losers. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d feel comfortable telling the others half the things he’d told Eddie in the middle of the night, tucked together in Eddie’s bed. He wasn’t sure he’d let any of the others run soft fingers through his hair as he cried.

He knew what it meant, he just liked to avoid it. But tonight, lying in a bed that felt too big under covers that felt too cold, he couldn’t help but miss Eddie. He couldn’t help but wish he had Eddie in his arms, couldn’t help but wish he could kiss him. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of his bed and sighing, putting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

“Fuck,” he muttered. His room was blurry when he opened his eyes, glasses sitting on his nightstand, but he spotted the red of Eddie’s shirt on his floor and leaned down to grab it. The red was worn from years of wear, but Richie smiled as he remembered where Eddie had gotten it. The shirt had a faded picture of Spiderman, Eddie’s favorite superhero, and for his birthday three years ago the Losers put their money together to buy the overpriced t-shirt from the comic store. Eddie had thanked them all with individual hugs, and it was one of the first times Richie noticed the way his nerves were on edge when Eddie held him.

Richie lay back down, shirt still balled up in his hands. He knew it was a size small as he was the one who went to the store and bought it, so he knew it was too tiny for his own lanky body to wear, but he held it up to his face, breathing in the scent of Eddie lingering in the fabric. He closed his eyes and imagined Eddie was lying next to him, that he was breathing in the scent of his actual best friend and not just his shirt, and fell asleep.

*

The next morning by the bike racks, Richie noticed the dark circles under Eddie’s eyes had only gotten more pronounced over the last 24 hours. He watched as his best friend yawned through first period and rested his head on his desk, eyes closed, in second.

It was at lunch that Eddie asked to come over to Richie’s after school. “If I go straight to sleep when I get home after my mom’s already seen the dark circles under my eyes two days in a row, she’ll think I’m dying and drag me to the hospital.”

The others weren’t at the table yet, so Richie asked, “Why didn’t you sleep last night?”

Eddie shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “Just couldn’t. So can I come over?”

Richie agreed easily. His dad would be at work and his mom would hopefully be in her room. He rarely saw her after school.

“Sounds like a plan, Spaghetti Man. We can take a nap together and then maybe go to the diner for some burgers.”

“God Richie, don’t call me that!” Eddie said exasperatedly, but Richie caught the way his lips twitched upwards at the corners like he was biting back a smile.

“Sorry, Edward Spaghedward,” Richie said solemnly. “I know you like to be referred to by your full name.”

Eddie rolled his eyes as the others joined them.

*

When they arrived at Richie’s house after school, Maggie Tozier was nowhere to be seen, likely hidden away in her room. Richie led Eddie to his bedroom and shut the door behind him. He walked straight to his record player to put something on, when he heard Eddie’s quiet voice behind him.

“Is that my shirt?”

Richie froze in panic, heart pounding in his chest. He willed himself to breathe normally, and didn’t turn around as he said, “oh, yeah, it was stuck in my jeans yesterday when I escaped your room. I meant to bring it with me to school to give to you but I forgot.”

“How’d you forget?” Eddie asked, and Richie could hear his footsteps getting closer to the head of his bed. He shut his eyes tightly; maybe if he couldn’t see Eddie, Eddie couldn’t see him. “Richie, it’s… draped across your pillow. It…” there was a pause and Richie sneaked a peek to see what was happening. Eddie had picked up the shirt and was sniffing it. “It smells like you.”

Richie bit his lip. Eddie had clearly come to the obvious conclusion, so there was no point in lying about it now. Maybe Eddie would see sleeping with your best friend’s shirt against your nose as cute and platonic and not totally creepy. “I slept with it last night.”

Eddie’s quiet breath quickened in the silence of the room. Richie wished he’d had time to put a record on before Eddie noticed the shirt.

“Why?”

Richie turned finally, but kept his eyes on the dirty carpet beneath his feet. “I couldn’t sleep. I’ve got so used to sleeping with you that I-I just, I couldn’t sleep. The shirt smelled like you and it made it easier. I’m sorry if that’s… weird, or whatever.”

He cringed, waiting for Eddie’s response. Eddie didn’t say anything, but he softly gasped the moment Eddie’s shoes came into his vision. He looked up quickly; Eddie was standing right in front of him, a soft and understanding smile on his face. Richie felt his cheeks heat up as Eddie looked closely at him.

“It’s not weird, Rich,” Eddie promised, grabbing one of Richie’s hands. “I couldn’t sleep without you, either. It’s why I’m…” he gestured at the bags under his eyes. “If anything I’m more pathetic, because my bed smells like you and I _still_ couldn’t sleep.”

Richie’s heart skipped. _My bed smells like you_. He’d never thought about that – every night that he wasn’t there, Eddie slept in a bed that still smelled like Richie. He wanted to make some kind of joke, something to lighten the mood, but he couldn’t think of what to say. It was like every Voice he'd ever used had slipped his mind. And then Eddie stepped even closer, the toes of their Converse pressed together. Richie could feel Eddie’s breath on his face and it made a shiver go up his spine. Eddie was still holding one of his hands.

“Neither of us can sleep without the other there,” Eddie’s voice was quiet. “That probably means something.”

“What does it mean to you?” Richie whispered, terrified of the answer. His mind was racing – he couldn’t think straight with Eddie so close to him, looking at him like… Like Richie was Eddie’s favorite person, too.

“Rich,” he breathed. “I think it’s pretty obvious what it means to me. I – I held you for hours while you cried and let you sleep in my bed every night and I – last night I _kissed_ you. I don’t know what else I can do to show you. You never did anything so I just… assumed it didn’t mean the same thing to you.”

Richie smiled at the memory of Eddie’s lips on his cheeks, kissing away the tears that had fallen. He brought a shaky hand up to Eddie’s cheek, mesmerized by the way Eddie’s eyes closed and a soft sigh escaped his parted lips.

Richie wanted to kiss him so badly, but he needed Eddie to understand what this meant to him, first. “Eds… You mean everything to me. You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of when I go to sleep, and I fucking hate being in bed without you. Everything’s better with you, you know? You’re my favorite person in the world, Eds.”

Richie could see unshed tears shining in Eddie’s eyes but he looked happier than Richie could remember ever seeing him. Eddie’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, and Richie’s eyes followed the movement. He leaned forward, moistening his own lips, when a crash sounded from down the hall. Eddie yanked his head back, eyes wide. Richie just shut his eyes in frustration. He could hear his mother’s impassioned curse, followed by a loud “ _Richard! Come clean this up!_ ”

Richie sighed, holding up a finger to Eddie and stepping out of the room. He walked to his mother’s room and found a picture frame of Richie as a baby knocked on the ground from the dresser, pieces of glass surrounding it.

“What happened?” Richie asked dully. He spotted the glass of wine on the night stand and rolled his eyes. One more year.

“None of your fucking business, just clean it up,” Maggie Tozier said, taking a large gulp from her glass.

Richie trudged down the hallway to the kitchen to find the broom and quickly cleaned the mess up, not saying another word to his mother. When he was done he made his way back to his own bedroom and stood outside the door, trying to let the frustration at his mom drain from his body. After a few deep breaths, he entered and found Eddie sitting on the edge of the bed, nervously fiddling with the hem of his shorts.

“So I guess that kind of ruined the moment, huh?” Eddie asked, letting out a short, fake laugh.

“Fuck no.” As Richie took a few quick strides to where Eddie sat he said, “My parents don’t get to ruin anything anymore.” He watched Eddie’s face morphed into one of surprise as he slid a hand into the hairs at the back of his neck, leaning down until their lips met. It was messy and their noses bumped and Eddie gasped against Richie’s lips. They traded fervent kisses until Richie’s glasses slid down his nose and bumped Eddie’s, and Eddie pulled back to giggle.

Eddie let his head fall back against the mattress and Richie followed him down, yanking his glasses off and tossing them in the direction of the nightstand. He brought their faces back together and brushed a soft kiss to Eddie’s red lips, savoring the sigh that slipped out and the way Eddie looked at him from under hooded eyes.

Richie’s heart felt like it was going to explode. He never thought he could have this, never thought he deserved to have it and yet here it was. He kissed Eddie again, unable to stop now that he’d started. When they pulled back again, just enough to breathe, Richie opened his eyes again and stared down at the content smile on Eddie’s face.

Eddie opened his eyes after a moment, and brought his hand up to comb through Richie’s hair. Richie shuddered.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Eddie whispered, watching Richie with awe-filled eyes.

Richie shut his eyes against the tears building there; he’d never been a happy crier but then again he couldn’t think of another time he’d been this happy. He leaned down again and pressed a soft kiss to Eddie’s cheek before rolling off of him, settling on his side next to him. Eddie’s eyes were closed and a soft smile was on his swollen lips. Then he yawned loudly.

“You still tired?” Richie asked quietly, grinning.

“Mhm,” Eddie mumbled, keeping his eyes closed. Richie watched as he kicked his shoes off and unbuttoned his shorts, pulling them off and dropping them on the floor. He’d seen Eddie in his underwear a million times, it was how they both slept, but the sight still made his mouth dry. Eddie kicked gently at Richie’s legs, muttering , “your jeans are itchy.”

Richie snorted, following Eddie’s lead and taking his own shoes and pants off, before pulling the blanket out from under both of them and laying it over their bodies. Eddie rolled until he was curled up against Richie’s chest, and Richie watched with a smile as Eddie quickly dozed off. Once Eddie’s breaths had evened out, Richie closed his eyes and breathed in Eddie’s scent, happy it was the real thing and not just a t-shirt. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep.


End file.
